Saturday, May 28, 2016
Friday, May 13, 2016
Making Use of Available Space
It's interesting to watch Tokyo always in a state of rebuilding, always putting up something bigger, better, nicer, always making use of available space.
I recall one 4 or 6 story building that was triangular and I was convinced that standing inside with outstretched arms one could reach to the ends of any side. I think that building is now gone. But here's another, a couple miles from that point, that's somewhat similar.
I recall one 4 or 6 story building that was triangular and I was convinced that standing inside with outstretched arms one could reach to the ends of any side. I think that building is now gone. But here's another, a couple miles from that point, that's somewhat similar.
I walked up close and guestimated. I'm pretty sure it's no wider than 2 feet across the narrow end, and about 15 feet across the wider end. There is a veterinary office in the lower part (also indicated by the yellow sign), and appear to be some apartments in the wider end. Above the veterinarian in the narrow end, one wonders if they're efficiency apartments or perhaps offices. Possibly each upper floor is just one wedge shaped apartment.
It's hard to see from this picture, but the entire cluster of buildings also form a larger triangle in the available space between two roads. (You can see the little road at left, and the sidewalk for a large road at right.)
Sunday, May 8, 2016
But, having said that...
There is in Japanese an increasing amount of English, pronounced with native Japanese sounds, as described in my previous post.
In addition, there is an increasing amount of straight English written everywhere. Some of it's for tourists - not only for Americans, but as the universal language, for all non-Japanese speakers. But much of it is clearly intended for Japanese consumption.
This reminds me of the English that was written in (what was about to become) the United States around the time of the Revolutionary War. This English was sprinkled with straight up French, or so is my impression from what I've read of it. At that time, a high percentage of those who could read and write English, knew that much French as well.
Similar in today's Japan, I do believe. I sometimes think one could almost get away with English vocabulary in a framework of Japanese grammar, along with a sprinkling of some basic Japanese verbs.
That is, one could possibly get by, so long as he knew how to say all those English words in Japanese. And for me at this point that is one of the most difficult parts of speaking this language. Since the borrowed English words don't sound like the originals (and don't always mean quite the same thing), one has to remember how to say each of these words. They are not logically based upon some borrowed Chinese roots as so many native Japanese words, and worse, they are seldom pronounced using the closest possible Japanese sounds.
Indeed, the conversion to Japanese typically goes by spelling, rather than by sound, sometimes causing conflation. Lamb Raisin ice cream anyone? A friend sent me a picture, taken in Japan, of such a delicacy. The problem is that both lamb and rum became ramu in Japanese, and they don't always choose the right one on the way back out. Actually, that's not a great example of my point, because it would appear the pronunciation of rum might have been chosen for sound, or it might have turned out to be rumu.
When words come into Japanese, they typically end up full of glottal stops and long duration vowels. The idea of the glottal stop is as follows: take a word with a double consonant, such as stopped. Now say both p's when pronouncing: Stop ped. This is common in Japanese words, and used very often in borrowed words, often making them sound entirely different than they did in English.
The long duration vowel is also used often in both native Japanese and borrowed English words. For example, the word room is ru-mu or ruumu, and it's intended that the vowel sound be held longer than for the word rumu, if there were one.
I know many foreigners who know how to order a beer in Japanese: bi-ru. If they said only biru, that would mean building because that word is typically abbreviated. Of course, a foreigner sitting in a bar or restaurant that orders a biru, doesn't end up with a $48M tab and title to the establishment, though that would certainly teach him to watch his language. But out of context this would cause confusion.
In addition, there is an increasing amount of straight English written everywhere. Some of it's for tourists - not only for Americans, but as the universal language, for all non-Japanese speakers. But much of it is clearly intended for Japanese consumption.
This reminds me of the English that was written in (what was about to become) the United States around the time of the Revolutionary War. This English was sprinkled with straight up French, or so is my impression from what I've read of it. At that time, a high percentage of those who could read and write English, knew that much French as well.
Similar in today's Japan, I do believe. I sometimes think one could almost get away with English vocabulary in a framework of Japanese grammar, along with a sprinkling of some basic Japanese verbs.
That is, one could possibly get by, so long as he knew how to say all those English words in Japanese. And for me at this point that is one of the most difficult parts of speaking this language. Since the borrowed English words don't sound like the originals (and don't always mean quite the same thing), one has to remember how to say each of these words. They are not logically based upon some borrowed Chinese roots as so many native Japanese words, and worse, they are seldom pronounced using the closest possible Japanese sounds.
Indeed, the conversion to Japanese typically goes by spelling, rather than by sound, sometimes causing conflation. Lamb Raisin ice cream anyone? A friend sent me a picture, taken in Japan, of such a delicacy. The problem is that both lamb and rum became ramu in Japanese, and they don't always choose the right one on the way back out. Actually, that's not a great example of my point, because it would appear the pronunciation of rum might have been chosen for sound, or it might have turned out to be rumu.
When words come into Japanese, they typically end up full of glottal stops and long duration vowels. The idea of the glottal stop is as follows: take a word with a double consonant, such as stopped. Now say both p's when pronouncing: Stop ped. This is common in Japanese words, and used very often in borrowed words, often making them sound entirely different than they did in English.
The long duration vowel is also used often in both native Japanese and borrowed English words. For example, the word room is ru-mu or ruumu, and it's intended that the vowel sound be held longer than for the word rumu, if there were one.
I know many foreigners who know how to order a beer in Japanese: bi-ru. If they said only biru, that would mean building because that word is typically abbreviated. Of course, a foreigner sitting in a bar or restaurant that orders a biru, doesn't end up with a $48M tab and title to the establishment, though that would certainly teach him to watch his language. But out of context this would cause confusion.
Saturday, May 7, 2016
Za hiruzu ah araibu uida sanda myujikku
Did you recognize the first line of a famous song in my title? The hills are alive with the sound of music. Surely you've heard of it.
The other day we saw a Japanese lady on TV singing it in the Japanized English such as above; my English-speaking Japanese wife asked, "What'd she just say?"
This to me is one of the largest problems the Japanese have with English: they insist on writing it in Japanese symbols, which, even with all the available tricks, cannot produce the correct English pronunciations.
Actually, they can do whatever they please when borrowing an English word for use in Japanese. We do the same thing such as with karaoke, which we pronounce in a way that is utterly unrecognizable as Japanese. The kara is actually the same one as in karate, which we get close to right, but for some reason we insist on pronouncing it carry. Who knows why. (And in Japanese the oke part is okeh, not okie.)
But the problem for Japanese English speakers arises when they insist on memorizing English words that have been written in Japanese symbols, and then expect the English speaking world to understand them. Not going to happen.
Some years back when my kids were young, I was walking along with them out in the Japanese countryside when a gentleman out on his porch said, "Guddo moruningu."
When I responded with "Good morning," one of my boys said, "Oh, that's what he said." And that one's by no means the worst example.
They insist on pronouncing hello as haroh. I tell people haroh is a Japanese word, not an English one. I usually take this one step farther and say something along the lines of haroh-gozaimasu, since the word sounds as though it's been conjugated for that construction.
Sure, there are those native English speakers who pronounce the word as hallo, but I've never met one that pronounced it haroh. As I said, do what you want in Japanese, but don't be surprised when it doesn't work as English. The opposite is true as well.
The other day we saw a Japanese lady on TV singing it in the Japanized English such as above; my English-speaking Japanese wife asked, "What'd she just say?"
This to me is one of the largest problems the Japanese have with English: they insist on writing it in Japanese symbols, which, even with all the available tricks, cannot produce the correct English pronunciations.
Actually, they can do whatever they please when borrowing an English word for use in Japanese. We do the same thing such as with karaoke, which we pronounce in a way that is utterly unrecognizable as Japanese. The kara is actually the same one as in karate, which we get close to right, but for some reason we insist on pronouncing it carry. Who knows why. (And in Japanese the oke part is okeh, not okie.)
But the problem for Japanese English speakers arises when they insist on memorizing English words that have been written in Japanese symbols, and then expect the English speaking world to understand them. Not going to happen.
Some years back when my kids were young, I was walking along with them out in the Japanese countryside when a gentleman out on his porch said, "Guddo moruningu."
When I responded with "Good morning," one of my boys said, "Oh, that's what he said." And that one's by no means the worst example.
They insist on pronouncing hello as haroh. I tell people haroh is a Japanese word, not an English one. I usually take this one step farther and say something along the lines of haroh-gozaimasu, since the word sounds as though it's been conjugated for that construction.
Sure, there are those native English speakers who pronounce the word as hallo, but I've never met one that pronounced it haroh. As I said, do what you want in Japanese, but don't be surprised when it doesn't work as English. The opposite is true as well.
Thursday, May 5, 2016
If you had a Noah, where would you park it?
I don't find the two-car parking lots all over this town to be unusual. Parking is scarce, and if you had a small chunk of land available, someone would be glad to pay you something to allow them to park there.
The thing that does amuse me, is that even the two-car lots, such as this one, tend to have an electronic sign letting you know if they have a space available.
That character just below the large P at right is on an electronic display. This one means there is space available. There's a different one when the lot is full. Thing is, you often can't see this until you're about close enough to see the spaces, and yet, they've gone to the expense of providing the sign. (It's probably part of the overall parking lot package they bought somewhere. They're all remarkably similar. There's no attendant, obviously. You park and the gizmo locks until you pay the machine.)
This is in a residential area, not downtown or near a train station. These days a Yen is running pretty close to a penny, so this says the maximum charge is about $18 for a 12 hour period. Its about $2 for a half hour between 8 AM and 10 PM, and about $1 for two hours otherwise.
The thing that does amuse me, is that even the two-car lots, such as this one, tend to have an electronic sign letting you know if they have a space available.
That character just below the large P at right is on an electronic display. This one means there is space available. There's a different one when the lot is full. Thing is, you often can't see this until you're about close enough to see the spaces, and yet, they've gone to the expense of providing the sign. (It's probably part of the overall parking lot package they bought somewhere. They're all remarkably similar. There's no attendant, obviously. You park and the gizmo locks until you pay the machine.)
This is in a residential area, not downtown or near a train station. These days a Yen is running pretty close to a penny, so this says the maximum charge is about $18 for a 12 hour period. Its about $2 for a half hour between 8 AM and 10 PM, and about $1 for two hours otherwise.
Saturday, April 30, 2016
Noah, and Other Members of the Zark Family
Toyota makes a van called Noah. I'd noticed it before and thought it was a funny name for a car. Wondered if the people who named it had ever read the Bible, etc.
And then one day I was standing on the sidewalk watching a Noah drive by and it dawned on me: this is a large van for Japan. At least large for a passenger vehicle in Japan. They did read the Bible (or maybe heard the book on tape version).
Far as I can tell it doesn't come complete with a male and female of every species. Maybe they didn't read the entire story.
And then one day I was standing on the sidewalk watching a Noah drive by and it dawned on me: this is a large van for Japan. At least large for a passenger vehicle in Japan. They did read the Bible (or maybe heard the book on tape version).
Far as I can tell it doesn't come complete with a male and female of every species. Maybe they didn't read the entire story.
Tuesday, April 26, 2016
The Medical Profession
So what's with the medical profession there in the States? Some time ago a dentist shot a known and named lion in Africa or somewhere, and now there's a vet who shot a cat with an arrow and posted it on Facebook. She says feral, neighbors say pet. You know, a tomato, tomahto sort of thing. Now she's fighting to keep her veterinary license.
I'd say she should lose her license just for proving she's not smart enough to be a vet. As dumb as we are all getting, soon the police will need only Facebook to investigate our crimes.
So far as I know at this time, the medical profession here in Japan is nowhere near that colorful. Or violent? Well, at least not as colorful.
Since I last wrote about the dentist I have been to a chiropractor, and then back to the dentist. I will see them both again today.
The chiropractor was nothing unusual except that he spent about an hour working me over.
Back at the dentist, different doctor this time - perhaps luck of the draw on that, the clinic seems to have at least four. Pain had not subsided since last visit, and I figured they were going to do a root canal. But he determined that the tooth was actually cracked up into the root and extracted it. At least I didn't need a root canal. (I had actually suspected it was cracked the last time and mentioned it. But apparently it was difficult to find until I cleaved it further, breaking away the temporary seal.)
It will be interesting to see what they recommend for long-term repair. That clinic does do implants, but I do also have good teeth on both sides, so we'll see if they recommend a bridge instead.
I didn't know the words for the various instruments he kept sending his assistant after. But I'm pretty sure if I could have remembered them long enough to have looked them up, they would be along the lines of number 58 monkey wrench, crow bar, 12 pound mallet, needle noise vice grips, and long-handled channel locks.
The tooth may have broken, but that didn't mean it didn't have every intention of remaining in my head. The dentist didn't take "no" or "ouch" for an answer, however. Actually, he did ask after my welfare a number of times, and gave me an extra shot - which hurt about as much as the wrenching - when I wasn't quite numb enough up high.
So far, I'm impressed with the representatives of the medical profession I've met here. Silly me, I can't help but find some fun in the new experiences, monkey wrenches and all.
I'd say she should lose her license just for proving she's not smart enough to be a vet. As dumb as we are all getting, soon the police will need only Facebook to investigate our crimes.
So far as I know at this time, the medical profession here in Japan is nowhere near that colorful. Or violent? Well, at least not as colorful.
Since I last wrote about the dentist I have been to a chiropractor, and then back to the dentist. I will see them both again today.
The chiropractor was nothing unusual except that he spent about an hour working me over.
Back at the dentist, different doctor this time - perhaps luck of the draw on that, the clinic seems to have at least four. Pain had not subsided since last visit, and I figured they were going to do a root canal. But he determined that the tooth was actually cracked up into the root and extracted it. At least I didn't need a root canal. (I had actually suspected it was cracked the last time and mentioned it. But apparently it was difficult to find until I cleaved it further, breaking away the temporary seal.)
It will be interesting to see what they recommend for long-term repair. That clinic does do implants, but I do also have good teeth on both sides, so we'll see if they recommend a bridge instead.
I didn't know the words for the various instruments he kept sending his assistant after. But I'm pretty sure if I could have remembered them long enough to have looked them up, they would be along the lines of number 58 monkey wrench, crow bar, 12 pound mallet, needle noise vice grips, and long-handled channel locks.
The tooth may have broken, but that didn't mean it didn't have every intention of remaining in my head. The dentist didn't take "no" or "ouch" for an answer, however. Actually, he did ask after my welfare a number of times, and gave me an extra shot - which hurt about as much as the wrenching - when I wasn't quite numb enough up high.
So far, I'm impressed with the representatives of the medical profession I've met here. Silly me, I can't help but find some fun in the new experiences, monkey wrenches and all.
Saturday, April 23, 2016
Land of a Million Javelins
I remember, as a kid, howling with laughter at an episode of Bugs Bunny, one in particular. Some hillbillies were after the good rabbit, and it appeared he'd finally met his match when he began calling a square dance. As the billies got dancing, he called, "Grab a fence pole, hold it tight, hit your partner with all your might." Not ones to argue with the caller, so it would seem, they each grabbed a pole from the fence and began whacking each other, thereby taking their minds temporarily off of the hunt.
In most part of the US, one might be more likely to be hit by a 2x4 than a fence pole. In Japan even that is quite unlikely. A trip past a local lumberyard has me reasonably convinced the the Japanese equivalent of a 2x4 is a 4.5x10.5. The wood I saw didn't have units, but given the size and the modern local tradition, I'd guess they're centimeters. This, by my calculations, is about 1 3/4 x 4; a 2x4 more or less. Though the name doesn't have quite the same ring to it, a whack would probably hurt about as much either way.
But it seems to me even more than a 4.5x10.5, the thing the traveler might not have known to be fearful of is the laundry pole.
In most part of the US, one might be more likely to be hit by a 2x4 than a fence pole. In Japan even that is quite unlikely. A trip past a local lumberyard has me reasonably convinced the the Japanese equivalent of a 2x4 is a 4.5x10.5. The wood I saw didn't have units, but given the size and the modern local tradition, I'd guess they're centimeters. This, by my calculations, is about 1 3/4 x 4; a 2x4 more or less. Though the name doesn't have quite the same ring to it, a whack would probably hurt about as much either way.
But it seems to me even more than a 4.5x10.5, the thing the traveler might not have known to be fearful of is the laundry pole.
Above a good many of the sidewalks in Tokyo, there are apartments, and a good many of them have balconies with poles for hanging clothes, like this.
Let's just say, if anyone up there ever loses track of one of these, it's rather likely to be noticed down below.
When a golf ball takes a bad arc, the golfer yells "fore!" So, if you're in Japan and hear someone yell "ten and a half!," or the Japanese equivalent "juutengo!," it may be time to duck.
Thursday, April 21, 2016
The Dentist
Do you remember the Steve Martin & Bill Murray scene in Little Shop of Horrors where Martin is the dentist who enjoys inflicting pain (as they most seem to do) as he sings "I am a dentist," and Murray is the patient who enjoys the inflicted pain (as most of us seem not to do)?
Well, my story's nowhere nearly as good as that one. But I did go to the dentist in Japan for the first time yesterday. First time as a patient, that is. Some years back I did take my wife to a dentist in Japan; she had an abscess when we were visiting relatives and received excellent care from a young dentist way out in the country.
So, anyway, it was Thursday, later afternoon and I was having a bite of steak for dinner when something went crunch and my tooth began to hurt. Of course I don't know exactly where there's a dentist though I've seen shops around. And I have no clue which is any good. So I went to Google and found three near my apartment.
The nearest one, a Dr. Kobayashi, is closed on Thursdays. I couldn't find Dr. Nishida, who's name suggests he could be a distant relative, though probably isn't. It was raining a bit, but not enough for an umbrella, so I had my glasses in my pocket which didn't help. But I went back and forth a bit before giving up on him (her?) and went on down to a dental practice near the nearest train station. This one I found (second pass), and it was open. Note that this sort of office is often on a higher floor of a building and might not have a large obvious sign. Indeed, this one wasn't large, but possibly should have been obvious.
I don't know the doctor's name because the practice was named for the part of town, rather than for the doctor. She might have told me her name, but I didn't catch it. I thought she might be a dental assistant until she began drilling on my tooth, with an actual assistant's help. At that point I rather suspected, and hoped, that she was a dentist. She didn't sing a catchy tune like Steve Martin, which would have given her away in a hurry.
Anyway, an older filling had failed. Probably the one my Texas dentist has been keeping an eye on, saying it's not looking good, but he's not going to dig it out while it seems to be working for me (unlike Martin for sure).
She drilled it out and patched me up with cement and said as long as it's not still hurting when I return on Tuesday she'll make a mold. She also asked my choice of materials. Between that and the mold I asked her if this meant she was going to put a crown on it. But she said no, it will be a filling. So, I'll report later on how that works out. I've never had a mold for a filling before.
By the way, when they took the x-ray they had me stand under a machine and bite on a gizmo while the machine spun around my head. Even though my Texas dentist's a bit of a gadget junkie, I'd never had this done before. When I told my wife about it, she said she'd had that done at an endodontist in Texas, but never at our regular dentist. So, I'm thinking, if this lady has a whirly x-ray machine, she can probably be trusted with a filling, even if it does require a mold, and even if, possibly, she is a dental assistant.
By the way, the whirly x-ray cost me $40. (I'm paying cash for now, and will submit all to insurance later.) Let's see you beat that in Texas. And Texas is the cheapest place I know of in the US. Food for thought, but don't bite down too hard.
Well, my story's nowhere nearly as good as that one. But I did go to the dentist in Japan for the first time yesterday. First time as a patient, that is. Some years back I did take my wife to a dentist in Japan; she had an abscess when we were visiting relatives and received excellent care from a young dentist way out in the country.
So, anyway, it was Thursday, later afternoon and I was having a bite of steak for dinner when something went crunch and my tooth began to hurt. Of course I don't know exactly where there's a dentist though I've seen shops around. And I have no clue which is any good. So I went to Google and found three near my apartment.
The nearest one, a Dr. Kobayashi, is closed on Thursdays. I couldn't find Dr. Nishida, who's name suggests he could be a distant relative, though probably isn't. It was raining a bit, but not enough for an umbrella, so I had my glasses in my pocket which didn't help. But I went back and forth a bit before giving up on him (her?) and went on down to a dental practice near the nearest train station. This one I found (second pass), and it was open. Note that this sort of office is often on a higher floor of a building and might not have a large obvious sign. Indeed, this one wasn't large, but possibly should have been obvious.
I don't know the doctor's name because the practice was named for the part of town, rather than for the doctor. She might have told me her name, but I didn't catch it. I thought she might be a dental assistant until she began drilling on my tooth, with an actual assistant's help. At that point I rather suspected, and hoped, that she was a dentist. She didn't sing a catchy tune like Steve Martin, which would have given her away in a hurry.
Anyway, an older filling had failed. Probably the one my Texas dentist has been keeping an eye on, saying it's not looking good, but he's not going to dig it out while it seems to be working for me (unlike Martin for sure).
She drilled it out and patched me up with cement and said as long as it's not still hurting when I return on Tuesday she'll make a mold. She also asked my choice of materials. Between that and the mold I asked her if this meant she was going to put a crown on it. But she said no, it will be a filling. So, I'll report later on how that works out. I've never had a mold for a filling before.
By the way, when they took the x-ray they had me stand under a machine and bite on a gizmo while the machine spun around my head. Even though my Texas dentist's a bit of a gadget junkie, I'd never had this done before. When I told my wife about it, she said she'd had that done at an endodontist in Texas, but never at our regular dentist. So, I'm thinking, if this lady has a whirly x-ray machine, she can probably be trusted with a filling, even if it does require a mold, and even if, possibly, she is a dental assistant.
By the way, the whirly x-ray cost me $40. (I'm paying cash for now, and will submit all to insurance later.) Let's see you beat that in Texas. And Texas is the cheapest place I know of in the US. Food for thought, but don't bite down too hard.
Wednesday, April 20, 2016
If You Can't Read it, Don't Ask Us!
I wouldn't necessarily be reading a novel in Japanese except that I find myself in the middle of a project that now and then requires me to write a sentence or two of literary Japanese. So I'm reading a novel to familiarize myself with the style. (In English you can read about this project in my Arrowsmith blog; in Japanese it's my Nihongoman blog.)
So there I was on the train reading a Japanese translation of Dan Brown's The Puzzle Palace when a group of older ladies boarded. One sat next to me. Within a minute she said, in Japanese, "Are you reading that?"
I assured her that I was. Before long I was in a conversation with the group of them. I was asked my age, how long I've lived in Japan, the whole works. As we conversed I told them that I certainly do run into characters that I don't know, or at least can't recall at that moment, but I'm at the point where I can usually still get the meaning.
Two of the ladies said, "Well, if you do run into a character you don't know, don't ask me!" We all laughed. I'm sure everyone of them can read circles around me, but it's true, even they certainly do encounter characters they can't read from time to time, just as we Americans sometimes run into an English word we don't know.
A few minutes later one of the ladies said she knows how to say one thing in English, and that's "Have a nice day."
Just then the train stopped at their destination and the lady next to me said, "Have a nice day," and they were gone. I'll bet their smiles lasted a while; mine surely did.
So there I was on the train reading a Japanese translation of Dan Brown's The Puzzle Palace when a group of older ladies boarded. One sat next to me. Within a minute she said, in Japanese, "Are you reading that?"
I assured her that I was. Before long I was in a conversation with the group of them. I was asked my age, how long I've lived in Japan, the whole works. As we conversed I told them that I certainly do run into characters that I don't know, or at least can't recall at that moment, but I'm at the point where I can usually still get the meaning.
Two of the ladies said, "Well, if you do run into a character you don't know, don't ask me!" We all laughed. I'm sure everyone of them can read circles around me, but it's true, even they certainly do encounter characters they can't read from time to time, just as we Americans sometimes run into an English word we don't know.
A few minutes later one of the ladies said she knows how to say one thing in English, and that's "Have a nice day."
Just then the train stopped at their destination and the lady next to me said, "Have a nice day," and they were gone. I'll bet their smiles lasted a while; mine surely did.
Friday, April 15, 2016
On Earthquakes
Sometimes when we're in Texas we have a Japanese friend or relative call to check on us saying something like, "I heard there was a tornado in Texas." Well, Texas is big, and has lots of tornadoes; the likelihood any particular one hits me is pretty low. But you don't necessarily know all that when you live elsewhere and have never been to Texas.
Similar with the earthquake. Looks like a pretty good shake, tragic for a few people, and very traumatic for a good many others. But very far from Tokyo. It's true Japan is not as large as Texas, but it is about as large as California, and it's something like San Francisco to San Diego in this case.
Having had a good number of meetings with the US during the Japanese nighttime in the days prior, I was asleep when the quake hit. My wife, who was awake, said she'd felt a slight shake in Tokyo a couple hours before. It's possible that was a slight tremor here, they're common, but unlikely it had anything to do with the quake down south. She said she felt nothing at all near the time news of the quake erupted on TV, which is what I'd have expected.
Anyway, thanks for your concern. The people in Kumamoto can use all the positive energy you can send their way. Bad as it was, I think back about some of the bigger ones, and feel grateful this one's not as bad as they can be.
Similar with the earthquake. Looks like a pretty good shake, tragic for a few people, and very traumatic for a good many others. But very far from Tokyo. It's true Japan is not as large as Texas, but it is about as large as California, and it's something like San Francisco to San Diego in this case.
Having had a good number of meetings with the US during the Japanese nighttime in the days prior, I was asleep when the quake hit. My wife, who was awake, said she'd felt a slight shake in Tokyo a couple hours before. It's possible that was a slight tremor here, they're common, but unlikely it had anything to do with the quake down south. She said she felt nothing at all near the time news of the quake erupted on TV, which is what I'd have expected.
Anyway, thanks for your concern. The people in Kumamoto can use all the positive energy you can send their way. Bad as it was, I think back about some of the bigger ones, and feel grateful this one's not as bad as they can be.
I know you're translating it, but can you read it?
Years ago I was out in town in the US somewhere translating a Japanese document while I waited for the kids. Someone happened by, saw the document and said, "Can you read that?"
I answered that I was translating it to which she responded, "But can you read it?"
While, it's very true that I've seen, and possibly even produced, translations that didn't look like the translator was able to read the original, any credible translation of course requires a thorough understanding of the original, which in turn typically requires reading.
I bring this up, however, because I occasionally have a Japanese acquaintance interact with me in a way that requires reading, seem to notice nothing unusual, only to be surprised later to find that I can read.
Perhaps at one level reading, being something most people do, doesn't stand out very much. At another, when they stop to think about it, "Oh, wait a minute (you're a foreigner) can you read that?"
So, I've had people after I get off the stage having given a presentation in Japanese ask if I can read. Probably they don't realize my rote memorization skills are much weaker than my reading skills. I'd never have been able to do a long presentation like that without being able to read my ques from the presentation material.
I've had people after a meal at a restaurant where I ordered from an all-Japanese menu express surprise at some later point that I can read.
And I've even had people with whom I've exchanged significant quantities of e-mail in Japanese ask me if I can read. And you thought I was able to appropriately answer your e-mail exactly how, if I couldn't? (One must be able to read to even write the language. One types it phonetically, but then has to choose appropriate characters from lists of words with those pronunciations. While I'm sure I get some wrong sometimes, it would be incomprehensible if it were too terribly wrong.)
Truth is, these days reading is often easier for me than understanding what some people say. People who talk fast or softly, or speak of subjects I'm not very familiar with can leave me in the dust. I've been in the US most of the past 30 years, and my ears ain't as young as the rest of me. But I can decipher the same information in written form since I have a little more time to do so, and because written language contains so many cues and clues that it can be easier to figure out.
Similar to Greek and Latin roots in English, much Japanese is made up of compounds of Chinese characters. If you hear a combination you don't know, it's sometimes hard to guess from so many possibilities what it could be, though sometimes you still can due to context. But if you know one or both of the characters, it becomes much easier to guess what the compound is when you see it. Many words are pronounced the same, but each character also has a unique meaning, which really narrows down the choices.
I answered that I was translating it to which she responded, "But can you read it?"
While, it's very true that I've seen, and possibly even produced, translations that didn't look like the translator was able to read the original, any credible translation of course requires a thorough understanding of the original, which in turn typically requires reading.
I bring this up, however, because I occasionally have a Japanese acquaintance interact with me in a way that requires reading, seem to notice nothing unusual, only to be surprised later to find that I can read.
Perhaps at one level reading, being something most people do, doesn't stand out very much. At another, when they stop to think about it, "Oh, wait a minute (you're a foreigner) can you read that?"
So, I've had people after I get off the stage having given a presentation in Japanese ask if I can read. Probably they don't realize my rote memorization skills are much weaker than my reading skills. I'd never have been able to do a long presentation like that without being able to read my ques from the presentation material.
I've had people after a meal at a restaurant where I ordered from an all-Japanese menu express surprise at some later point that I can read.
And I've even had people with whom I've exchanged significant quantities of e-mail in Japanese ask me if I can read. And you thought I was able to appropriately answer your e-mail exactly how, if I couldn't? (One must be able to read to even write the language. One types it phonetically, but then has to choose appropriate characters from lists of words with those pronunciations. While I'm sure I get some wrong sometimes, it would be incomprehensible if it were too terribly wrong.)
Truth is, these days reading is often easier for me than understanding what some people say. People who talk fast or softly, or speak of subjects I'm not very familiar with can leave me in the dust. I've been in the US most of the past 30 years, and my ears ain't as young as the rest of me. But I can decipher the same information in written form since I have a little more time to do so, and because written language contains so many cues and clues that it can be easier to figure out.
Similar to Greek and Latin roots in English, much Japanese is made up of compounds of Chinese characters. If you hear a combination you don't know, it's sometimes hard to guess from so many possibilities what it could be, though sometimes you still can due to context. But if you know one or both of the characters, it becomes much easier to guess what the compound is when you see it. Many words are pronounced the same, but each character also has a unique meaning, which really narrows down the choices.
Tuesday, April 12, 2016
Wait for me, you're under arrest!
I have written previously about an experience involving the Tokyo police. Today we had another.
Just off the phone with the US, it was the middle of the night here and since we were both wide awake we decided to go out for a walk.
One can do that here, thanks in part to the Tokyo police, and thanks in part, I do believe, to a society that believes in teaching morality in the classroom, and, indeed, in every activity every day. (Yes, it can be heavy sometimes, but it works.)
Tokyo has small police offices called 'koban' all over the city. Just as we were passing one of these, a taxi pulled away from the curb outside. Not sure what the taxi did to incur his wrath, but the officer inside sprung from the door, mounted his bicycle, and took out after it. (We were close to being casualties of a police chase, though the damages would have likely been something like a bruise or a skinned knee.)
Now, I'm guessing that the officer saw that the taxi was at a red light and figured he had a shot. But it's funnier to think of the officer huffing and puffing down the street falling further and further behind the taxi, only to be saved by a red light. You choose the version you like. I'm actually not entirely sure, except that the officer did only travel about 100 yards, or meters as they're called in this part of the world.
Anyway, at the red light, the officer blew his whistle and wheeled in front of the the taxi. When the light changed he directed it to an open spot under a bridge where I assume they conducted the kind of business that gets conducted at times like this.
Needless to say, watching a bicycle cop chase down a taxi is not something one gets to do just every day.
By the way, one of my wife's friends said she'd heard that police boxes are called koban even in the US. My wife said no. I asked, "Do we even have police boxes in the US?" Maybe in NYC or somewhere, but, according to TV, the officers all spring out of precinct houses and head out on patrol. No?
Oh, and if koban sounds vaguely familiar, you might be thinking of the Japanese evening greeting konbanwa though it has nothing in common with the police box besides a few shared syllables and the fact that it's very likely said to and by officers sometimes, mostly in the evening one would expect. Perhaps it was even said by a very contrite taxi driver last night.
Just off the phone with the US, it was the middle of the night here and since we were both wide awake we decided to go out for a walk.
One can do that here, thanks in part to the Tokyo police, and thanks in part, I do believe, to a society that believes in teaching morality in the classroom, and, indeed, in every activity every day. (Yes, it can be heavy sometimes, but it works.)
Tokyo has small police offices called 'koban' all over the city. Just as we were passing one of these, a taxi pulled away from the curb outside. Not sure what the taxi did to incur his wrath, but the officer inside sprung from the door, mounted his bicycle, and took out after it. (We were close to being casualties of a police chase, though the damages would have likely been something like a bruise or a skinned knee.)
Now, I'm guessing that the officer saw that the taxi was at a red light and figured he had a shot. But it's funnier to think of the officer huffing and puffing down the street falling further and further behind the taxi, only to be saved by a red light. You choose the version you like. I'm actually not entirely sure, except that the officer did only travel about 100 yards, or meters as they're called in this part of the world.
Anyway, at the red light, the officer blew his whistle and wheeled in front of the the taxi. When the light changed he directed it to an open spot under a bridge where I assume they conducted the kind of business that gets conducted at times like this.
Needless to say, watching a bicycle cop chase down a taxi is not something one gets to do just every day.
By the way, one of my wife's friends said she'd heard that police boxes are called koban even in the US. My wife said no. I asked, "Do we even have police boxes in the US?" Maybe in NYC or somewhere, but, according to TV, the officers all spring out of precinct houses and head out on patrol. No?
Oh, and if koban sounds vaguely familiar, you might be thinking of the Japanese evening greeting konbanwa though it has nothing in common with the police box besides a few shared syllables and the fact that it's very likely said to and by officers sometimes, mostly in the evening one would expect. Perhaps it was even said by a very contrite taxi driver last night.
Ura & Omote (Front & Back)
Some people complain that Japanese people have ura & omote, or font & back. While all people everywhere have a front & back, what this actually means is that Japanese people are very polite to your face, but say mean things behind your back.
One of my professors said "Intelligence, no matter how artificial, is always better than stupidity, no matter how genuine."
This is pretty much how I feel about ura & omote. While there's certainly something honest and authentic about someone who's an asshole even to your face, I think I'd prefer they save the assholiness for when I'm not around.
To me, Japanese people are plain nice. I'm sure now and then some of them have said something later about that weird foreigner. And, if I heard it, I'd likely agree with their assessment. I am a weird foreigner here. And when I'm in the US I'm a weird native. I can live with it.
One of my professors said "Intelligence, no matter how artificial, is always better than stupidity, no matter how genuine."
This is pretty much how I feel about ura & omote. While there's certainly something honest and authentic about someone who's an asshole even to your face, I think I'd prefer they save the assholiness for when I'm not around.
To me, Japanese people are plain nice. I'm sure now and then some of them have said something later about that weird foreigner. And, if I heard it, I'd likely agree with their assessment. I am a weird foreigner here. And when I'm in the US I'm a weird native. I can live with it.
Shave 'n a Haircut
In the old days in Japan a haircut was usually 2500 Yen and included a hot towel to the face, a neck and shoulder massage, stinky powder applied all about, etc. Although in those days 2500 Yen was only $10, I was almost as cheap then as I am now, so I'd still look for a bargain that didn't include all the extras. One of my Japanese buddies talked a barber into cutting his hair for 500 or 600 Yen, I think it was, and, let's just say, he didn't need to go back for a long time.
Fast forward to today, or yesterday rather, which is when I got this particular haircut. I'd noticed that it's possible to pay 4500 Yen for a cut, but also possible to pay 1000 Yen. These days - particularly these past few months - 1000 Yen is almost $10. So maybe $10 is the universal price for this service.
Well, anyway, my wife and I had noticed a family salon in our neighborhood advertising the 1000 Yen price. When we happened by yesterday the barbers, stylists, hair technicians, or cosmetologists were standing around, so we stopped in. First there was a machine to check us in and give us a number. Then there was a machine to buy a ticket. These machines are pretty common in Japan at lower-priced, quick diners, for instance. You buy a ticket for the meal you want and go sit down. I think it basically saves a small establishment one person at busy times.
So far as I recall, that's the first time I've bought a ticket for a haircut, though I've done it many times for a meal. But the funny thing was as I was chatting with the barber, he asked me what foods I like, and I was telling him about a new little diner around the corner from him. He told me he'd tried it too, but he didn't realize one had to buy a ticket, and went in and sat down, only to be told to go back and buy a ticket. He acted like that was kinda weird, which struck me funny.
As for the haircut, worth every penny. I'd have even paid 11 or 12 hundred Yen for it, but don't tell him please. I can't imagine that a 4500 Yen haircut would be better, unless maybe you can do the entire thing over the Internet, that might be worth it.
Fast forward to today, or yesterday rather, which is when I got this particular haircut. I'd noticed that it's possible to pay 4500 Yen for a cut, but also possible to pay 1000 Yen. These days - particularly these past few months - 1000 Yen is almost $10. So maybe $10 is the universal price for this service.
Well, anyway, my wife and I had noticed a family salon in our neighborhood advertising the 1000 Yen price. When we happened by yesterday the barbers, stylists, hair technicians, or cosmetologists were standing around, so we stopped in. First there was a machine to check us in and give us a number. Then there was a machine to buy a ticket. These machines are pretty common in Japan at lower-priced, quick diners, for instance. You buy a ticket for the meal you want and go sit down. I think it basically saves a small establishment one person at busy times.
So far as I recall, that's the first time I've bought a ticket for a haircut, though I've done it many times for a meal. But the funny thing was as I was chatting with the barber, he asked me what foods I like, and I was telling him about a new little diner around the corner from him. He told me he'd tried it too, but he didn't realize one had to buy a ticket, and went in and sat down, only to be told to go back and buy a ticket. He acted like that was kinda weird, which struck me funny.
As for the haircut, worth every penny. I'd have even paid 11 or 12 hundred Yen for it, but don't tell him please. I can't imagine that a 4500 Yen haircut would be better, unless maybe you can do the entire thing over the Internet, that might be worth it.
Friday, April 8, 2016
Plumbers
I recall that years ago when we leased one of these by-the-month furnished apartments, the mail box was often filled with flyers for houses for sale. This is true this time too and makes some sense. But what surprised me is that already we've had two refrigerator magnets from plumbers. Don't they know the landlord takes care of those things?
But then I realized that the management office is only open 10 to 8, and both of the plumbers advertise 24 hour service. I guess if one had a really big problem in the night, he might actually call one of these guys.
And then it struck me; what if these plumbers are smarter than I am? I had visions of battling a small plumbing issue all night, barely keeping it contained. Then, frantically calling the office at 10:00 AM to report the issue, only to have them say, "I hope you kept one of those magnets."
But then I realized that the management office is only open 10 to 8, and both of the plumbers advertise 24 hour service. I guess if one had a really big problem in the night, he might actually call one of these guys.
And then it struck me; what if these plumbers are smarter than I am? I had visions of battling a small plumbing issue all night, barely keeping it contained. Then, frantically calling the office at 10:00 AM to report the issue, only to have them say, "I hope you kept one of those magnets."
Tie Yer Shoes
There's a tiny shoe store just down the street. I don't think it's quite as large as my small home office. An older guy sits in there day after day. Now and then I see him on the street. Granted, it's only been a month, and I don't go past more than an average twice a day, but I don't think I've ever seen a customer in there. Hopefully he's got a thriving online business. Maybe he even owns understock.com.
When the weather was cold he was in there huddled near an electric heater. When his shop is open he has shoes on racks out front, usually for around $10. Not sure about the stuff inside, but that outside isn't Italian leather, or leather at all for the most part.
Well, anyway, the word for shoes is kutsu, and the character for that word is above his door in a huge font. My joke has been that some evening I'm going to climb up there and write the word tai in front of the word kutsu to form the word taikutsu, meaning boredom. Unlike the kutsu, the small size of the shop doesn't limit the amount of taikutsu that can be therein housed, but rather increases it.
Of course, if I did get up there and write tai, it still wouldn't be the right way to write the word taikutsu. But some clever folks would get the point. And since tai is pronounced like tie, it can also mean tie your shoes, but perhaps only to those possessing the very pinnacle of cleverness, Mount Cleverest if you will.
When the weather was cold he was in there huddled near an electric heater. When his shop is open he has shoes on racks out front, usually for around $10. Not sure about the stuff inside, but that outside isn't Italian leather, or leather at all for the most part.
Well, anyway, the word for shoes is kutsu, and the character for that word is above his door in a huge font. My joke has been that some evening I'm going to climb up there and write the word tai in front of the word kutsu to form the word taikutsu, meaning boredom. Unlike the kutsu, the small size of the shop doesn't limit the amount of taikutsu that can be therein housed, but rather increases it.
Of course, if I did get up there and write tai, it still wouldn't be the right way to write the word taikutsu. But some clever folks would get the point. And since tai is pronounced like tie, it can also mean tie your shoes, but perhaps only to those possessing the very pinnacle of cleverness, Mount Cleverest if you will.
Wednesday, April 6, 2016
And Just How Great Was He?
I don't know exactly where is the Japanese equivalent of Madison Avenue, assuming there is one, or what it's called. But if I ever do find it, I have a few questions for them.
The other day I wrote about a store called Don Quixote, the name of which suggests shopping futility, at least to me. Today while shaving with my Gatsby shaving gel, a similar thought struck me: I guess they must have been thinking, when they came up with this brand - a popular one for men's toiletries - "Let's name it Gatsby, he was pretty Great!" But, if you know the story, it turns out he's really not all that great, perhaps like the gel?
This is, by the way, the first time I have used something called shaving gel. The drug store where I bought it had many varieties of gel, and not so many of foam, so I gave it a try. It works alright, though it's not easy to see where you've been since it's just a clear gel. But it does make the blade glide easily over the face, which is at least one major requirement. Next time I'll probably go back to some sort of foam. Maybe even Gatsby's.
The other day I wrote about a store called Don Quixote, the name of which suggests shopping futility, at least to me. Today while shaving with my Gatsby shaving gel, a similar thought struck me: I guess they must have been thinking, when they came up with this brand - a popular one for men's toiletries - "Let's name it Gatsby, he was pretty Great!" But, if you know the story, it turns out he's really not all that great, perhaps like the gel?
This is, by the way, the first time I have used something called shaving gel. The drug store where I bought it had many varieties of gel, and not so many of foam, so I gave it a try. It works alright, though it's not easy to see where you've been since it's just a clear gel. But it does make the blade glide easily over the face, which is at least one major requirement. Next time I'll probably go back to some sort of foam. Maybe even Gatsby's.
Saturday, April 2, 2016
Masks in Full Bloom
It's pretty well known that many Asians wear masks. It's my impression that they wear them if they've got a bit of a cold, so as not to share it with others, or if others around them have a bit of a cold. Certainly at this time of year a good number of them are wearing them due to pollen.
The other big thing going on in Japan right now is what is known as hanami, or flower viewing. The cherry blossoms are in full bloom, and there are festivals here and there, and hoards of people out to see the blossoms.
On TV they said 250,000 people were at Ueno Park the other day to see them. I'll take their word for it since I'm too lazy to count them myself. Besides, though I like Ueno Park, I typically avoid the place when it has more than 249,999 visitors.
A few days ago I did take a walk through Tetsugakudo (Philosophy Tower) Park; the blossoms had already bloomed, but it was early enough in the day that there was not yet a crowd, and I will say it was pleasant indeed. But by the time I took my wife back there, seventeen minutes later, the crowd was building and the pleasantness quickly diminishing, at least for me.
(Why, you might ask, does a guy who doesn't like crowds, or conformity, love Tokyo so much? The answer my friend, is, along with the pollen, blowin' in the wind at Philosophy Tower Park.)
Now, I don't mean to make light of the suffering of others - I myself have terrible hay fever in dry climates, though essentially no allergy trouble at all in Japan - but it strikes me as slightly humorous that the most pleasant thing going on may be related to one of the most unpleasant, so one has to wear a mask to go out to see the blossoms, as is this lovely lady.
The other big thing going on in Japan right now is what is known as hanami, or flower viewing. The cherry blossoms are in full bloom, and there are festivals here and there, and hoards of people out to see the blossoms.
On TV they said 250,000 people were at Ueno Park the other day to see them. I'll take their word for it since I'm too lazy to count them myself. Besides, though I like Ueno Park, I typically avoid the place when it has more than 249,999 visitors.
A few days ago I did take a walk through Tetsugakudo (Philosophy Tower) Park; the blossoms had already bloomed, but it was early enough in the day that there was not yet a crowd, and I will say it was pleasant indeed. But by the time I took my wife back there, seventeen minutes later, the crowd was building and the pleasantness quickly diminishing, at least for me.
(Why, you might ask, does a guy who doesn't like crowds, or conformity, love Tokyo so much? The answer my friend, is, along with the pollen, blowin' in the wind at Philosophy Tower Park.)
Now, I don't mean to make light of the suffering of others - I myself have terrible hay fever in dry climates, though essentially no allergy trouble at all in Japan - but it strikes me as slightly humorous that the most pleasant thing going on may be related to one of the most unpleasant, so one has to wear a mask to go out to see the blossoms, as is this lovely lady.
Drinkin' The Water
About fifteen years ago, when I was in a supermarket near my Tokyo hotel, an American woman came up to me with two large bottles of water. Raising them both so I could see, she said she couldn't figure out which one to buy.
Suspecting I knew the answer, I asked her what she intended to do with it and she explained that she'd heard so much about not drinking the water when one travels, she thought she'd better buy these for brushing her teeth and for drinking.
I told her that they were both just water, so either would be fine, but so would the water in the hotel.
I've been drinking it now for 34 years, and have never experienced a bad taste or odor, and never heard anyone say anything about the water being unsafe. Typically, the water pressure is even quite good. It certainly is in our current apartment.
So, even if you decide you don't want to drink the Kool Aid, the water itself is fine.
Thursday, March 31, 2016
Perseverance
One of the words that comes to mind when I think about Japan is perseverance. As you may know, the Japanese are famous for their longevity. What might be less well known is that the population of the country is decreasing. Even with the longevity, the death rate outpaces the birth rate. Put these two things together and you have an aging population.
Everyday I see older folks out and about. Older ladies, bent nearly in half, supporting themselves with their rolling grocery carriers as they go out and do their shopping.
I admire them, and it helps me remember I ain't got it so bad. Yet.
Everyday I see older folks out and about. Older ladies, bent nearly in half, supporting themselves with their rolling grocery carriers as they go out and do their shopping.
I admire them, and it helps me remember I ain't got it so bad. Yet.
Wednesday, March 30, 2016
Moron Toilets
A few days ago I talked about the bidet toilets in Asia. As I might have mentioned, the bidet part of the toilet can be added to a conventional toilet, since all the workings are built into the seat.
So, with that background ... yesterday I noticed that someone had thrown one of the bidet toilet seats out with their trash. Let me know if you're interested and I'll go back and see if it's still there.
So, with that background ... yesterday I noticed that someone had thrown one of the bidet toilet seats out with their trash. Let me know if you're interested and I'll go back and see if it's still there.
Tuesday, March 29, 2016
Shopping
If you were expecting this to be about shopping Ginza for fancy brands, stop reading here. Instead it's about the likes of Ikea and Costco, both of which are in Japan these days. I haven't been to either yet, but look forward to that cultural experience someday.
Years ago I was often asked in Japan whether we have 7-11 in the US. Of course I always responded that, actually, though they are also everywhere in Japan, 7-11 is an American company. Some years later I heard that 7-11 was purchased by a Japanese company, and wondered if it was something I'd said.
Nowadays 7-11 owns a grocery store named Ito Yokado, a bank, and other properties. I think the parent brand is something like 7&I Holdings.
I had read in years past that Wal-Mart was looking for a way to get into this market. Then, the other day at Seiyu, a grocery store where we've shopped for years, I saw an advertisement for a Wal-Mart credit card, and wondered if they had entered with their credit business first. But then I noticed that there were also Wal-Mart's Great Value branded items on the shelves. I believe Wal-Mart must have bought the chain.
But the chain in Japan that's most often compared to America's Wal-Marts is called Don Quixote. It carries all sorts of things and some locations are open 24 hours.
But I laughed when first I heard the name. Isn't that book about futility? So I guess I shouldn't expect to find what I'm looking for there? A sort of bricks and mortar understock.com, as it were.
Years ago I was often asked in Japan whether we have 7-11 in the US. Of course I always responded that, actually, though they are also everywhere in Japan, 7-11 is an American company. Some years later I heard that 7-11 was purchased by a Japanese company, and wondered if it was something I'd said.
Nowadays 7-11 owns a grocery store named Ito Yokado, a bank, and other properties. I think the parent brand is something like 7&I Holdings.
I had read in years past that Wal-Mart was looking for a way to get into this market. Then, the other day at Seiyu, a grocery store where we've shopped for years, I saw an advertisement for a Wal-Mart credit card, and wondered if they had entered with their credit business first. But then I noticed that there were also Wal-Mart's Great Value branded items on the shelves. I believe Wal-Mart must have bought the chain.
But the chain in Japan that's most often compared to America's Wal-Marts is called Don Quixote. It carries all sorts of things and some locations are open 24 hours.
But I laughed when first I heard the name. Isn't that book about futility? So I guess I shouldn't expect to find what I'm looking for there? A sort of bricks and mortar understock.com, as it were.
Monday, March 28, 2016
Sponge Cake & Protein Bars
In Margaritaville Jimmy Buffett talks about "nibblin' on sponge cake" and a "frozen concoction that helps [him] hang on."
Tokyo ain't exactly Margaritaville, and I ain't exactly Jimmy Buffett. But there are those who've wondered what I eat in Tokyo, since I'm not so much a fish or a vegetable person.
I've never been quite sure why, but it surprises some people that I'm pretty fluent in Japanese language, but not particularly fluent in Japanese food.
What might surprise other people, who've known me all my life as a meat eater, or a meat and potatoes guy, is that I don't really care much about eating meat. I do eat it; it's a safe choice for me, and sometimes the only thing edible around. But I don't crave it, and often go a week or more without it.
So, that still leaves us with the question: What do I eat in Japan?
First, let me share the secret of the three most awesome sources of protein: soybeans, cottage cheese, and protein bars.
The other day I was in a grocery store looking for soybeans when one of the grocers happened by. He helped me find the beans, and asked me how I intended to use them. I explained that I cook them with rice and eat them plain - no seasoning at all. It's an awesome meal. (A while later the same grocer happened to see me scrutinizing a box of soy milk and with a smile said, "that looks rather appropriate.")
Cottage cheese is a little harder to find here than in the US, and a little more expensive. But it's just awesome. It's dry, and has a very fine curd, and a very mild flavor. I could eat an entire 200g carton (about a cup) for every meal.
But I would say the protein winner is still these bars. They have 10g of the stuff, no sugar, low fat and reasonable carbs and they taste awesome. One wonders why the world needs any other source of nutrition.
Tokyo ain't exactly Margaritaville, and I ain't exactly Jimmy Buffett. But there are those who've wondered what I eat in Tokyo, since I'm not so much a fish or a vegetable person.
I've never been quite sure why, but it surprises some people that I'm pretty fluent in Japanese language, but not particularly fluent in Japanese food.
What might surprise other people, who've known me all my life as a meat eater, or a meat and potatoes guy, is that I don't really care much about eating meat. I do eat it; it's a safe choice for me, and sometimes the only thing edible around. But I don't crave it, and often go a week or more without it.
So, that still leaves us with the question: What do I eat in Japan?
First, let me share the secret of the three most awesome sources of protein: soybeans, cottage cheese, and protein bars.
The other day I was in a grocery store looking for soybeans when one of the grocers happened by. He helped me find the beans, and asked me how I intended to use them. I explained that I cook them with rice and eat them plain - no seasoning at all. It's an awesome meal. (A while later the same grocer happened to see me scrutinizing a box of soy milk and with a smile said, "that looks rather appropriate.")
Cottage cheese is a little harder to find here than in the US, and a little more expensive. But it's just awesome. It's dry, and has a very fine curd, and a very mild flavor. I could eat an entire 200g carton (about a cup) for every meal.
But I would say the protein winner is still these bars. They have 10g of the stuff, no sugar, low fat and reasonable carbs and they taste awesome. One wonders why the world needs any other source of nutrition.
But if one did want to eat a mighty tasty meal now and then, one that perhaps even includes some meat, one wouldn't go wrong with this meal.
This is a deep fried pork chop on rice with a spicy curry sauce. It's been one of my favorite dishes for several decades. These days I often get it without the pork, but I will say the pork's a nice touch.
I find it impossible to talk about what I call Japanese food without discussing bread.
It typically comes in these little packs, and one can usually get between 4 and 8 slices per pack. The amount of bread is the same; the slice thickness varies. When you toast this stuff it's crunchy on the outside and soft in the middle like the snow in Wyoming early in the morning after a warm day. Not only does the bread taste much better than the snow, if you like butter, it is OK to eat yellow bread.
And, of course, I've already mentioned rice a couple times. I absolutely love the stuff. White, brown or wild, I can eat it plain, and very often do. Maybe I do like Japanese food.
Sunday, March 27, 2016
Sumo
One of the best ways to say excuse me in Japanese is sumimasen. My longstanding joke has been that a large person moving through the crowd should instead say sumomasen.
I watched sumo last night on TV. I've always enjoyed watching it when I get a chance. Last night the champion deftly stepped aside as his opponent charged right past him and out of the ring. That's all there was to the much touted championship match.
Of course there was more to it than that. There are psychological games as the matches begin, and there was some fancy hand and footwork involved in the fake out. But it was still over in about a second.
The crowd wasn't pleased. They had been waiting all evening for this match and were disappointed to not see a struggle between the two. I get it, though I do feel differently. I thought it was just awesome.
The only reason sports are interesting, at least to me, is that they are unpredictable. On 'any given Sunday' the weak team can beat the strong one, or the champion sumo wrestler can win his bout with his head rather than his massive body.
The only thing that would have made last night's bout better is if the champion, after winning in that way, had bowed to the crowd and roared sumomasen!
I watched sumo last night on TV. I've always enjoyed watching it when I get a chance. Last night the champion deftly stepped aside as his opponent charged right past him and out of the ring. That's all there was to the much touted championship match.
Of course there was more to it than that. There are psychological games as the matches begin, and there was some fancy hand and footwork involved in the fake out. But it was still over in about a second.
The crowd wasn't pleased. They had been waiting all evening for this match and were disappointed to not see a struggle between the two. I get it, though I do feel differently. I thought it was just awesome.
The only reason sports are interesting, at least to me, is that they are unpredictable. On 'any given Sunday' the weak team can beat the strong one, or the champion sumo wrestler can win his bout with his head rather than his massive body.
The only thing that would have made last night's bout better is if the champion, after winning in that way, had bowed to the crowd and roared sumomasen!
Friday, March 25, 2016
Wand Wavers Local 432
I recognize that not every American's US experience is the same as my own. And certainly some - maybe much? - of what I observe in Tokyo is more about living in a city than it is about living in Japan. But then again, this is my blog, so I guess it's gonna have to be from my perspective.
Well, anyway, I was thinking about Wide Load signs. Driving along the highway in the US one is likely to see one of these now and then, usually associated with a truck pulling a load that fits the description.
I don't recall that I've ever seen a wide load sign in Japan, but what I have seen are wand wavers. They seem to appear out of nowhere when a big truck needs to take a tight turn, as are a good many of the turns a truck makes in Tokyo.
At construction sites, and parking lots one sees these wand wavers too. It's tough getting through the foot traffic and into and out of the busy lanes of motor vehicle traffic. The wand wavers help protect the public and keep traffic moving.
So all this got me thinking. It's not as though we don't also have wand wavers in the US, but the only places I've seen them were airports.
If you're a wand waver who's looking for work, you might try Japan. There appear to be plenty of jobs in your line around here.
Well, anyway, I was thinking about Wide Load signs. Driving along the highway in the US one is likely to see one of these now and then, usually associated with a truck pulling a load that fits the description.
I don't recall that I've ever seen a wide load sign in Japan, but what I have seen are wand wavers. They seem to appear out of nowhere when a big truck needs to take a tight turn, as are a good many of the turns a truck makes in Tokyo.
At construction sites, and parking lots one sees these wand wavers too. It's tough getting through the foot traffic and into and out of the busy lanes of motor vehicle traffic. The wand wavers help protect the public and keep traffic moving.
So all this got me thinking. It's not as though we don't also have wand wavers in the US, but the only places I've seen them were airports.
If you're a wand waver who's looking for work, you might try Japan. There appear to be plenty of jobs in your line around here.
Wednesday, March 23, 2016
Lazy Machines
Years ago in Japan it was sometimes difficult to find a cash machine where one could use a foreign ATM card. I recall that I stayed at one hotel where I found such a machine on the lowest floor in the meeting room area. But, alas, the next time I needed it it was closed. The machine, as it turns out, had the night off, every night. And I thought the purpose of an ATM was so one could get money at any time of night or day...was I wrong?
The most inconveniently lazy machines I ever encountered, however, we not in Japan at all, but rather in France, that land of far too few toilets. And, as you might have guessed, some of the pay toilets take the night off. I seem to remember one in particular, that knocked off around 6 PM, and I really, really needed to pee at about 6:03.
Well, anyway, these days in Japan it's pretty easy to find a foreign friendly ATM. Most convenience stores have them, and are open all night long.
But I did encounter another lazy machine today. The grocery store across the street has, out front, a machine for collecting PET bottles. It gives you one point for each bottle, and when you get to 500 you can trade your points in for 50 Yen worth of merchandise, or about 40 cents. Clearly there's not much of an economic incentive to use the machine, but one still feels as though he's doing the right thing when he does so. Still, if I find that machine sleeping on the job too many more times, my PET bottles are liable to end at the curb on plastics trash day. That'll teach it.
The most inconveniently lazy machines I ever encountered, however, we not in Japan at all, but rather in France, that land of far too few toilets. And, as you might have guessed, some of the pay toilets take the night off. I seem to remember one in particular, that knocked off around 6 PM, and I really, really needed to pee at about 6:03.
Well, anyway, these days in Japan it's pretty easy to find a foreign friendly ATM. Most convenience stores have them, and are open all night long.
But I did encounter another lazy machine today. The grocery store across the street has, out front, a machine for collecting PET bottles. It gives you one point for each bottle, and when you get to 500 you can trade your points in for 50 Yen worth of merchandise, or about 40 cents. Clearly there's not much of an economic incentive to use the machine, but one still feels as though he's doing the right thing when he does so. Still, if I find that machine sleeping on the job too many more times, my PET bottles are liable to end at the curb on plastics trash day. That'll teach it.
The Subway - Like a Sandwich, but with More Layers
Unless you've actually ridden on one, you may think the stories of the Tokyo subways are urban legends. They're not. Or, to be more precise, it's quite possible there are urban legends regarding the subways, but all the stories I've heard I have verified personally.
Yes, during rush hours there are white glove wearing men on the platforms of the busy stations who help push people aboard.
Yes, when the door opens and there's no room you still reach inside and grab something solid and pull yourself aboard.
Yes, when you need to leave the train and there's no path -- excuse me, or sumimasen, its equivalent in Japanese, doesn't help since others also have no path -- you just have to push through the crowd, often knocking others off the train with you. Those who didn't want to exit just pull themselves back aboard as if nothing happened.
You may have heard that on a crowded subway you needn't hold onto your briefcase to keep it at your side. Yes, I have tried this successfully, but it only works in the most crowded trains, of course.
But even after my thirty five years experiencing all of that, I witnessed something new tonight. I actually saw someone fall asleep standing up in the subway. It wasn't packed, so the only things holding him up were his own two feet and his two-handed grasp on the thing I call the monkey tail - you know, the dangly gizmo that one hangs onto when standing in a subway or bus.
Anyway, he was standing there, eyes closed, and then his knees sagged. I wonder if he had one of those dreams where you're falling and you try to scream but no sound comes out. If so, it might have been useful in this case; maybe that woke him, or maybe it was the intense pressure on his hands and arms when his knees gave way.
Anyway, he didn't fall. Instead he opened his eyes, for a moment, re-positioned himself, and then closed them again. I lost track of him after that, but had he fallen all the way down I probably would have noticed. So, let's just assume he got home safely, put on his bunny pajamas and fell fast asleep.
But most likely he's subscribed to this blog and will hear a chime when I hit the publish button, wake up, read it, smile, and fall back asleep.
Yes, during rush hours there are white glove wearing men on the platforms of the busy stations who help push people aboard.
Yes, when the door opens and there's no room you still reach inside and grab something solid and pull yourself aboard.
Yes, when you need to leave the train and there's no path -- excuse me, or sumimasen, its equivalent in Japanese, doesn't help since others also have no path -- you just have to push through the crowd, often knocking others off the train with you. Those who didn't want to exit just pull themselves back aboard as if nothing happened.
You may have heard that on a crowded subway you needn't hold onto your briefcase to keep it at your side. Yes, I have tried this successfully, but it only works in the most crowded trains, of course.
But even after my thirty five years experiencing all of that, I witnessed something new tonight. I actually saw someone fall asleep standing up in the subway. It wasn't packed, so the only things holding him up were his own two feet and his two-handed grasp on the thing I call the monkey tail - you know, the dangly gizmo that one hangs onto when standing in a subway or bus.
Anyway, he was standing there, eyes closed, and then his knees sagged. I wonder if he had one of those dreams where you're falling and you try to scream but no sound comes out. If so, it might have been useful in this case; maybe that woke him, or maybe it was the intense pressure on his hands and arms when his knees gave way.
Anyway, he didn't fall. Instead he opened his eyes, for a moment, re-positioned himself, and then closed them again. I lost track of him after that, but had he fallen all the way down I probably would have noticed. So, let's just assume he got home safely, put on his bunny pajamas and fell fast asleep.
But most likely he's subscribed to this blog and will hear a chime when I hit the publish button, wake up, read it, smile, and fall back asleep.
Tuesday, March 22, 2016
Mexican Food
When I lived in Tokyo in the 1980s, one of items I missed almost as much as hot chocolate was Mexican food. There didn't seem to be any of it anywhere. I remember being thrilled when 7-11 started selling ham and cheese burritos. The only resemblance to Mexican food was the tortilla, but I loved them.
In more recent years one of the family restaurant chains had added tacos to the menu, and I'd ordered them a couple times. The first time they served them cold. The second time, at a different location, they were warm, and decent.
We were in Tokyo a year ago when the first Taco Bell opened here. Actually, I think Taco Bell has been in Japan before, closed, and now returned. We didn't go when the new one opened because TV was showing lines around the building. But, in the meantime, another location has opened, and we did visit the original, which we found to be pretty credible, though minus the ultra cheap meal deals, and with a somewhat smaller, and somewhat Japanized menu than one finds in the US.
While it has only peripherally to do with the topic, Carl's Jr. has also opened a store in Tokyo recently. We'll try it too when the lines die down. Doesn't look like they have Hardee's biscuits though, which is one of the best things about Carl's in the US.
Anyway, before coming to Tokyo this time, we had done research and found a number of Mexican restaurants. Some have probably been around a while, but the Internet makes it so much easier to find things nowadays.
Still, we did bring with us taco and fajita seasoning. And then, the first day we arrived, we went to the store across the street to buy groceries, and found that they had taco shells, and seasonings. Almost every store has tortillas now. In thirty-some years Japan has come a long way in this regard.
Oh, and on the hot chocolate, it is everywhere in Japan now, though I no longer drink much of it. Thirty years ago on my way home from Japan I ordered two cups in San Francisco only to find them so sweet I couldn't make it through all of the first one. (One's taste buds change with a sugar deprived diet.)
In more recent years one of the family restaurant chains had added tacos to the menu, and I'd ordered them a couple times. The first time they served them cold. The second time, at a different location, they were warm, and decent.
We were in Tokyo a year ago when the first Taco Bell opened here. Actually, I think Taco Bell has been in Japan before, closed, and now returned. We didn't go when the new one opened because TV was showing lines around the building. But, in the meantime, another location has opened, and we did visit the original, which we found to be pretty credible, though minus the ultra cheap meal deals, and with a somewhat smaller, and somewhat Japanized menu than one finds in the US.
While it has only peripherally to do with the topic, Carl's Jr. has also opened a store in Tokyo recently. We'll try it too when the lines die down. Doesn't look like they have Hardee's biscuits though, which is one of the best things about Carl's in the US.
Anyway, before coming to Tokyo this time, we had done research and found a number of Mexican restaurants. Some have probably been around a while, but the Internet makes it so much easier to find things nowadays.
Still, we did bring with us taco and fajita seasoning. And then, the first day we arrived, we went to the store across the street to buy groceries, and found that they had taco shells, and seasonings. Almost every store has tortillas now. In thirty-some years Japan has come a long way in this regard.
Oh, and on the hot chocolate, it is everywhere in Japan now, though I no longer drink much of it. Thirty years ago on my way home from Japan I ordered two cups in San Francisco only to find them so sweet I couldn't make it through all of the first one. (One's taste buds change with a sugar deprived diet.)
Schoolmates
At a recent funeral in my hometown I saw some old schoolmates, some of whom I hadn't seen in decades. It was fun, but none of us made any effort to stay in touch. We'll see each other, or not, at the next funeral, and that will be the end of it.
That's not to say none of us ever stay in touch with any of our schoolmates; the point is that it's not at all unusual when we don't.
But Asia is different. Schoolmates have lifelong commitments to each other, and tend to see one another often, and take care of each other.
My most recent example took place in Korea, but I've seen similar in Japan too. I was at a industry event with a Korean business partner only to have a number of his school chums stop by to say hi. Some of them seemed to accept me immediately as a part of the gang, since I was a friend of their friend.
They told me stories of their joint activities -- getting together for dinner, joint business activities, etc. My partner, on this occasion and others, has told me about how they use their network of school friends to help each other in business. I even witnessed it first hand when I stayed at a hotel where one of his schoolmates was a high-ranking manager. My partner notified his schoolmate, in this case one he wasn't in quite as close touch with, and a bottle of wine and fruit basket was sent to my room. (I appreciated the gesture, but don't use wine or most fruits, so shared the items with others.)
One of my partner's friends told me it's easier for them to do this in a smaller country like Korea than it would be for us to do in the US. His point is well taken, but there's also a beautiful cultural element there that we probably lack, even if our country were smaller.
That's not to say none of us ever stay in touch with any of our schoolmates; the point is that it's not at all unusual when we don't.
But Asia is different. Schoolmates have lifelong commitments to each other, and tend to see one another often, and take care of each other.
My most recent example took place in Korea, but I've seen similar in Japan too. I was at a industry event with a Korean business partner only to have a number of his school chums stop by to say hi. Some of them seemed to accept me immediately as a part of the gang, since I was a friend of their friend.
They told me stories of their joint activities -- getting together for dinner, joint business activities, etc. My partner, on this occasion and others, has told me about how they use their network of school friends to help each other in business. I even witnessed it first hand when I stayed at a hotel where one of his schoolmates was a high-ranking manager. My partner notified his schoolmate, in this case one he wasn't in quite as close touch with, and a bottle of wine and fruit basket was sent to my room. (I appreciated the gesture, but don't use wine or most fruits, so shared the items with others.)
One of my partner's friends told me it's easier for them to do this in a smaller country like Korea than it would be for us to do in the US. His point is well taken, but there's also a beautiful cultural element there that we probably lack, even if our country were smaller.
Sunday, March 20, 2016
Your Japanese is Excellent!
Learn a word or two of Japanese, use them now and then, and sooner or later someone will tell you your Japanese is excellent.
Although I am always pleased when I hear it, I never forget two things:
1) I've been getting this compliment for 35 years. It's not so much a evaluation of one's ability as it is an appreciation for one's effort.
2) They never use this compliment on one another.
Although I am always pleased when I hear it, I never forget two things:
1) I've been getting this compliment for 35 years. It's not so much a evaluation of one's ability as it is an appreciation for one's effort.
2) They never use this compliment on one another.
Saturday, March 19, 2016
Sugar & Creap?
For 35 years now I've been getting a chuckle out of some of the Englishish words I've encountered in Japan, just as I'm sure they get one out of some of the backward, upside down, or silly sounding kanji characters they see tattooed on Western people.
A friend sent me a picture of the menu of an ice cream shop in Japan that had amongst it's flavors one called Lamb Raisin. Here the problem is that both the word lamb and the word rum have come into Japanese in the same way - ramu - and not everyone knows just which one to choose on the way back toward English.
Today, for the first time, I encountered this product on a convenience store shelf:
A friend sent me a picture of the menu of an ice cream shop in Japan that had amongst it's flavors one called Lamb Raisin. Here the problem is that both the word lamb and the word rum have come into Japanese in the same way - ramu - and not everyone knows just which one to choose on the way back toward English.
Today, for the first time, I encountered this product on a convenience store shelf:
It's coffee creamer, or creamy powder, but they cleverly replaced the m from cream with the p from powder.
Although admittedly more appetizing than lamb raisin ice cream, one still wonders how many folks just decide to drink their coffee black.
"Why Japanese People?!"
There is a foreign comic here, by the name of Jason, who begins his routine in Japanese discussing some element of language or culture that he's observed. At some point, perhaps when he's exposed some logical inconsistency, he goes into a rant, in English. He brings his clenched fists to his face and shouts, "Why Japanese People, Why?!"
I found it funny the first time. And continue to find it funny that others continue to find it funny. "Why Japanese people?" It's really a single joke following a changing and intricate set up. The setup itself is interesting because it exposes Japan through a foreign eye. It's the sort of thing I'd like to read in an essay, or perhaps even a blog. Now that I've seen the rant once, I can just remember that part.
Actually, I suspect part of his appeal is that, even with his single joke, he's still funnier than some of the local talent. Add that to the interesting set up, and viola, a star is born.
I do think Jason's line of questioning is natural though, for a foreigner. When you've spent your entire life thinking one way of doing things is normal, and then encounter others who do something quite different, it can be startling.
In the particular case of language inconsistencies, Guy Deutscher points out in his masterpiece, The Unfolding of Language, that part of what causes languages to evolve is the human desire to regularize things. Schoolmarms insist that funner is not a word, but most of us think it should be, based upon the rest of the language, so gradually it is gaining acceptance, much to their chagrin.
This is a normal process, but in our native languages the inconsistencies don't strike us as all that odd, we've lived with them since birth. In a foreign language though, time is compressed, you're seeing in a short time myriad odd things so it's easy to find some that you might have done differently, had you designed the language from scratch. Fodder for the likes of Jason, I suppose.
I found it funny the first time. And continue to find it funny that others continue to find it funny. "Why Japanese people?" It's really a single joke following a changing and intricate set up. The setup itself is interesting because it exposes Japan through a foreign eye. It's the sort of thing I'd like to read in an essay, or perhaps even a blog. Now that I've seen the rant once, I can just remember that part.
Actually, I suspect part of his appeal is that, even with his single joke, he's still funnier than some of the local talent. Add that to the interesting set up, and viola, a star is born.
I do think Jason's line of questioning is natural though, for a foreigner. When you've spent your entire life thinking one way of doing things is normal, and then encounter others who do something quite different, it can be startling.
In the particular case of language inconsistencies, Guy Deutscher points out in his masterpiece, The Unfolding of Language, that part of what causes languages to evolve is the human desire to regularize things. Schoolmarms insist that funner is not a word, but most of us think it should be, based upon the rest of the language, so gradually it is gaining acceptance, much to their chagrin.
This is a normal process, but in our native languages the inconsistencies don't strike us as all that odd, we've lived with them since birth. In a foreign language though, time is compressed, you're seeing in a short time myriad odd things so it's easy to find some that you might have done differently, had you designed the language from scratch. Fodder for the likes of Jason, I suppose.
Thursday, March 17, 2016
A Toilet by Any Other Name would Smell Like . . .
If I remember my Hamlet, the character of that name said to the ghost of his father, "from the tables of my memory I'll wipe away all trivial fond memories, all forms, all pressures past, that youth and observation copied there, and thy commandment all alone shall live within the book and volume of my brain, unmixed with baser matter." (As you'll see below, Shakespeare was right on point, as usual.)
The good King Claudius was lucky - to the extent a poisoned man could be - that he didn't have me for a son. I'm afraid I'd have been entirely unable to avoid mixing in the baser matter. "At least I know it may be so" in today's post; I am inclined to talk about toilets.
In the old days one was lucky to find a sit down toilet in Japan. Many were porcelain fixtures mostly flush with the surrounding floor, pun intended.
We used to call those "squatters." Not the same as an unwelcome individual camping on your property, but about the same degree of desirability.
But then, there were two types of those. One that actually did flush, and another that sat above a cavity under the house in a sort of septic system meets latrine sort of way. Every month a guy came around to clean out the holding bin, and you were more than happy to pay his charges, given the alternatives. This type of toilet was known by some of us a the "dropper."
Well, times have really changed for the humble toilet. One can scarcely visit any part of Asia today without encountering a bidet toilet, complete, so it would seem, with an operating system and a dozen buttons, generally in a language you either can't read, or are not inclined to at those particular moments.
Many of these units include a seat warmer. Desirable though it may seem in the unheated bathrooms you're also likely to encounter, I find it a bit disconcerting, as though I may have followed a little too closely behind the previous guy.
As for the bidet, perhaps I'd see it differently if it were dedicated, but I have a hard time wanting to be that intimate with a device that's shared by others, particularly in a hotel room or public space. It's about enough to make the old squatters sound good. But I do think I can live without encountering another dropper.
The good King Claudius was lucky - to the extent a poisoned man could be - that he didn't have me for a son. I'm afraid I'd have been entirely unable to avoid mixing in the baser matter. "At least I know it may be so" in today's post; I am inclined to talk about toilets.
In the old days one was lucky to find a sit down toilet in Japan. Many were porcelain fixtures mostly flush with the surrounding floor, pun intended.
We used to call those "squatters." Not the same as an unwelcome individual camping on your property, but about the same degree of desirability.
But then, there were two types of those. One that actually did flush, and another that sat above a cavity under the house in a sort of septic system meets latrine sort of way. Every month a guy came around to clean out the holding bin, and you were more than happy to pay his charges, given the alternatives. This type of toilet was known by some of us a the "dropper."
Well, times have really changed for the humble toilet. One can scarcely visit any part of Asia today without encountering a bidet toilet, complete, so it would seem, with an operating system and a dozen buttons, generally in a language you either can't read, or are not inclined to at those particular moments.
Many of these units include a seat warmer. Desirable though it may seem in the unheated bathrooms you're also likely to encounter, I find it a bit disconcerting, as though I may have followed a little too closely behind the previous guy.
As for the bidet, perhaps I'd see it differently if it were dedicated, but I have a hard time wanting to be that intimate with a device that's shared by others, particularly in a hotel room or public space. It's about enough to make the old squatters sound good. But I do think I can live without encountering another dropper.
Monday, March 14, 2016
What's In a Word: Adobencha-
Some of you knew, figured out, or at least suspected that the Japanese word adobencha- comes from the English word adventure.
Every language has loan words. English certainly has some from Japanese, such as karaoke and karate. What's interesting about karaoke is that English has actually borrowed the oke part back from Japanese after it was originally borrowed from English.
The kara part of both karate and karaoke is a Japanese word meaning empty. The te part of karate is a Japanese word meaning hand: empty hand.
The oke part of karaoke actually come from the English word orchestra, which was borrowed into Japanese as o-kesutora, which is then often shortened to oke.
Here, I am using the hyphen to lengthen the duration of the preceding vowel. (We don't usually do this when writing Japanese in Roman characters, but it is the way it's done in Japanese, particularly in loan words.)
In Japanese, the vowels always have the same sound, but the duration can be different. So, for my word adobencha, it really should be adobenchaa, or adobencha-; the final vowel sound has a long duration.
The Japanese spellings of loan words are usually chosen so the spelling comes out similarly, rather than trying to make the sounds match. Even if the sounds were made to match as much as possible, they wouldn't be perfect. But the focus on spelling makes the pronunciation even farther off. And then, too often, Japanese speakers think of the word as close enough to the English pronunciation to be understood. It's one of things that complicates communication between Japanese and English speakers.
Every language has loan words. English certainly has some from Japanese, such as karaoke and karate. What's interesting about karaoke is that English has actually borrowed the oke part back from Japanese after it was originally borrowed from English.
The kara part of both karate and karaoke is a Japanese word meaning empty. The te part of karate is a Japanese word meaning hand: empty hand.
The oke part of karaoke actually come from the English word orchestra, which was borrowed into Japanese as o-kesutora, which is then often shortened to oke.
Here, I am using the hyphen to lengthen the duration of the preceding vowel. (We don't usually do this when writing Japanese in Roman characters, but it is the way it's done in Japanese, particularly in loan words.)
In Japanese, the vowels always have the same sound, but the duration can be different. So, for my word adobencha, it really should be adobenchaa, or adobencha-; the final vowel sound has a long duration.
The Japanese spellings of loan words are usually chosen so the spelling comes out similarly, rather than trying to make the sounds match. Even if the sounds were made to match as much as possible, they wouldn't be perfect. But the focus on spelling makes the pronunciation even farther off. And then, too often, Japanese speakers think of the word as close enough to the English pronunciation to be understood. It's one of things that complicates communication between Japanese and English speakers.
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